


Oh Death

by writingforFUNandbecauseBoredom



Category: Original Work
Genre: I am procrastinating, this is self indulgent, very lazy writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 04:05:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14686107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingforFUNandbecauseBoredom/pseuds/writingforFUNandbecauseBoredom
Summary: Oh Death by Jen TitusSomething I wrote while listening to this song.





	Oh Death

She walked the streets with a grace that would make nobles fume in jealousy. 

For a moment he thought he saw a ghost, as there was no trail left behind her.

He closed the windows, feeling chilled by the pale figure that dressed like midnight. 

She stood out like a stain against the snow, though she was beautiful. Her beauty did not make her any less chilling to look at.

He was different in the aspect he supposed. For he had seen a trail of men follow her in a trance, fumbling like love sick puppies who are after a treat.

They most likely won’t find the treat they are after.

———

The next morning he opened his flower shop for customers to walk in, though it was chilly he was a good gardener.

His flowers were known to withstand any cold or heat, lasting for a year before wilting.

But it wasn’t like he used anything special, he supposed he simply spent more time on his flower than he did with people.

The bell rang, signaling the entering of a new customer, he turned around to come across a chilling sight. 

It was the woman. The dark stain that stood out amongst the snow yesterday.

He didn’t dislike her, no, that wasn’t why he compared her to a stain. It was simply because the similarities were uncanny, and he was a rather blunt man.

He peeked behind her to see men standing at the door. 

Now that he took a better look at them, they didn’t look like lovesick puppies. Their eyes were hazy, their jaw hung, and their forms slumped.

They didn’t shiver against the chill of winter, nor did they seem to have a mind of their own. 

“What kind of flower would a witch be looking for?” He spoke with a smile plastered on his face. A customer was a customer.

The woman didn’t remove her hood, instead speaking in a voice that sounded bewildered.

“If you know I am a witch, why won’t you throw me out?”

“A customer is customer ma’am. Now, what would you like?”

The woman stayed silent before removing her hood, showing her black hair and pale as the dead face.

“I heard that your flowers could withstand death…I was wondering if I could look into something that could endure me for centuries.”

The man knitted his eyebrows together. 

“….I’m afraid nothing can withstand death my dear. My flowers have an end.”

The woman stood silent, her eyes roaming over his figure.

Then she walked closer, reached for his hand, and touched it.

———

“Listen here I would appreciate it if you could let my hand go.”

The woman ignored his complaints as she dragged him outside of the town borders and into the wild, uncharacteristically energetic.

“No.”

“I need to attend to my flowers-“

“I will take you to lands that bloom flowers that you have never seen before, that have different seeds. My men are already carrying your flower seeds by the way.”

The man huffed indignantly.

And so began the eternal journey of the florist William Odds-on, and the witch Emily.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be serious but then it turned happy.
> 
> The witch is actually a emo dork and the florist is forever done with her shit.
> 
> She kidnaps her friends. 
> 
> William: Emily no.
> 
> Emily: Emily yes *building bursts into fire behind her*


End file.
